


waiting game

by joshdunistherealest



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Overdosing, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12680520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshdunistherealest/pseuds/joshdunistherealest
Summary: Tyler has gotten used to the taste of blood





	waiting game

**Author's Note:**

> sorry

Tyler has gotten used to the taste of blood.

Deep in his throat, bubbling and threatening to rise up when he yells. It doesn't quite hurt anymore, in fact he likes the burn of it. 

So when he's ten-too-many pills in, he doesn't know the difference between how he feels normally, and this copper on his tongue. 

His phone lights up on the bathroom sink, and he can see the blue light reflecting on the white popcorn ceiling. Blue, he thinks. Blue is Josh. 

Blue is Josh when he's happy, and his smile makes even the most bitter of regurgitation taste sweeter than the finest honey. 

Blue is Josh when he holds Tyler in his arms, rocking him back and forth when the fear that comes with nightfall creeps up his back. 

But now, blue is a faded black. He doesn't think he can see quite clearly anymore. In fact, he's convinced his vision has whited out completely. 

There's a vibration in his ears from his phone, a response from far too many ignored text messages. His phone sounds like a nest of hornets. 

Tyler briefly wonders if he's crying. If his body has finally registered that this is the day he truly wants nothing more than to die. He reaches his hand up, and catches a stray tear from his blurry vision. He feels like throwing up. 

He decides his best decision is just to lay limply on the bathroom floor. A white T-shirt clings loose to his hollowed chest. He shudders and he swears that for a minute, he sees God. 

At this point he wouldn't be surprised. 

Closing his eyes with a deep intake of breath, he wheezes an exhale.

It hurts, his heart stutters. 

Why God, does it hurt?


End file.
